Simple and Clean
by Rev Kurame
Summary: 18th cen. Japan--when a samurai runs from battle, he is expected to perform seppuku(suicide); in an odd twist of fate, vejita is rescued from death by a beautiful girl,Bulma, one who he promises to protect, but how will fate allow him this when his father
1. Silence

inspired by utada hikaru's fabulous song "simple and clean" listening to this song while you read will help you understand what i was feeling when i wrote this. that is not a requirement however. haha ^_~ feedback would be nice, eh?  
  
**Simple and Clean  
  
Scroll One:  
Silence  
  
** Vejita craned his neck, looking around the gnarled trunk of the tree. His chest rose and fell heavily as tried to catch his breath. Small beads of sweat raced paths down the side of his taut face. 'I'm such a coward...' He looked down at his hand, gripping the hilt of his katana loosely; he could feel the slight trembling that permeated there... it ran through his whole body. He could hear the faint war cries of the samurai as they clashed on the field a quarter mile back the way he had come. Their cries echoed even louder in his mind. He shook his head faintly. His suo sucked gently at his skin, heavy with blood. He reached his left hand up to tug the light blue cloth away from his body; he felt the gentle pressure before the blood soaked garment released hesistantly from his skin. He looked down. The suo was spattered with blood---blood from his own wounds and that of other samurai...he could not tell the difference. The deep crimson stained the faint blue of his top, seeping into the starched white collar his mother had pressed for him only days before.  
"Okaasan..." he whispered. Oh the shame he had brought his family the moment he decided to take flight from the field, in terror. His father was the most wealthy merchant in all of Vejita-sei Province, not to mention the clan leader. It had only been right to send his eldest son in the heat of the battle, bringing his family honor by weilding his katana, his father's own weapon. Vejita stared down at the beautifully crafted sword in shame. He could not return home. Not after the disgrace and dishonor he had shown by turning tail and running. Cold tears dared to reach the brim of Vejita's eyes. He would not--could not--shed them. He had never seen such horror as that he had witnessed in the past few days. He was surprised he had lasted this long. 'But I would be better off dead,' he thought bitterly. As a samurai, it was better to accept defeat and perish than to live and bare the embarassment that he had survived while his comrades had fallen.   
Vejita decided he should die right there. The blade slid smoothly from its sheath, glinting dangerously in the rays of daylight that peaked through the canopy of the reclusive forest. He twisted the blade this way and that, examing the fine craftsmenship displayed by such a fine weapon. "Feh! I do not deserve to brandish such a katana. But it will be the one to take my life," he spoke outloud to the deathly calm. Vejita Ouji, a hardworking, handsome young man of fifteen, a young boy yearning for life yet overwhelmed by death in a few short days, raised the silver blade above his head and in one swift slicing motion he ran the slick edge over his chest. His life's blood flowing cleanly from the new wound. Vejita dropped the katana, no long having the strength to hold it in his hand. His vision faded in and out as he felt the gushing of a warm liquid rush down his chest. He smiled darkly, for he would die a warrior's death, with his honor and by himself. Vejita fell forward on the dewey moss of the forest floor; his body draped across the roots of the gnarled old tree. His breathing slowed to a rhythmic bare whisper and he remembered nothing else but the faint cry of the warriors from the battle field, filled with passion and honor.  
  
the end.... JUST KIDDING!!! like i would do that. riiiiiiiight. haha! that would be great, right? don't worry; i won't take any more of ur time. bai! ^_~  
  
Vejita awoke to the smell of dry wood burning and ochazuke boiling on a kettle. He opened his eyes weakly, straining them even in the dim light. He heard someone stir beside him and he lept up quickly, ready to defend himself. He saw a young girl of about his age staring up at him with wide eyes. He noticed that he had somehow located his katana, which was placed by his futon, and was now holding it in his aching right hand. He lowered the sword and studied the only other occupant of the dark room. She had dark hair, forest green in hue, swept up and pinned to the back with a few stray locks escaping to frame her face. She had dark blue eyes like the depths of the ocean, that were currently staring up at him in a mixture of curiosity and fear. That thougth disturbed him that this young girl might fear him. He quickly cast the sword aside sitting back down on the futon warily, always keeping an eye on her. After he threw his sword down in a show of trust, she had moved to the fireside, stirring the coals and checking on the ochazuke. She took a small wooden chawan and ladled some of the salty stewed rice and spices into the bowl. She found a pair of chopsticks and set it across the bowl. She pushed the chawan bowl towards him and bowed deeply. Then she stood up to leave.  
"Wait!" he called out. She turned around but said nothing. "How did I get here?"  
She looked pointedly at the bowl and he took her suggestive meaning. He picked up the bowl and began to slurp the hot stew.   
"Well?" he asked over the rim of the bowl. Again, she said nothing but slid open the rice paper doors and left him alone in the dark room. He was stunned for a moment before his mouth twisted into a pout. 'How dare she ignore him?' When he saw her again, he would put her in her place.  
  
The young girl returned an hour later to find Vejita cleaning his sword with a spare scrap of cloth. As soon as he saw her enter, he quickly stood up.   
"Gomen. I was bored so I found this cloth in a drawer and thought to shine my katana," he explained. The girl looked at him for a moment, then nodded her acknowledgement. He heard a throat clearing behind her back. The young girl stepped out of the way to let an older woman pass through. The woman was old...practically ancient. Vejita thought she might belong in a museum of relics. The woman chuckled.  
"You wish to know why you are here?"  
Vejita nodded, looking from the haggard old woman to the beautiful young girl. He found the young girl much more pleasing to look at.   
"My young servant girl found you half dead while she was searching the forest for mushrooms last night. I told her not to wander to close to the battling areas but that particular forest is ripe with the shinjitake mushroom," the old woman grumbled while glaring at the girl. The girl only looked back with her wide unassuming eyes.  
Vejita fervently nodded his understanding. "A young girl such as yourself has no place so close to battle," he said hotly. He waited for her to reply but when she did not he looked to the old woman. She noticed his confusion and chuckled.  
"Do not worry if she does not reply. Buruma, does not speak or has not spoken for many years...as far as I can tell. The man I purchased her from to allow her her freedom told me that he did not think she knew how to talk. She has never spoken a word to my knowlegde. However, when I saw her I could not bare the look of sadly in her eyes. I paid the man for her freedom but she displayed her wish to stay with me. I do not know why though." The old woman turned to peer up at the girl. "Hmm? Why would you wish to stay here with Old Baba when there is great wide world out there for you," she complained jokingly. The young girl, Buruma gave her a small smile, the first one Vejita had seen. He thought it was most beautiful.   
"Buruma is a lovely name," he told her. She blushed slightly and looked down at Old Baba as if pleading for help. Baba chuckled.  
"It is indeed," she agreed. "Her former master called her that for she did not tell her his name. I doubt she ever had one."  
"What does it mean?" he asked curiously.  
"Old Baba knitted her eyebrows for a moment. "I believe he said that it was old dialect for 'simple and clean'." Baba shook her head as if trying to reach some stored piece of information by rattling her brains. Old Baba looked up at her young helper and gave a cackle. "Look, we are making her uneasy with all this talk. She is not used to the attention," Baba stated. She turned her attentions back to the young man. Her face turned serious. "You had grave wounds when Buruma brought you here. Luckily, I was able to tend to most of them but there will be marks, you understand."  
Vejita nodded.  
Baba motioned to Buruma. "Buruma will redress your wounds now. I assume you ate well."  
He smiled lightly. "Yes, it was very good. Domo arigatou."  
Baba waddled over to a small set of drawers and pulled out a stack of strips of linen. She handed them to Buruma. "You know what to do." Buruma nodded silently and sat down on the side of the futon, next to Vejita who was sitting on top of the covers of his makeshift bed. She unwrapped the bandages over his many wounds and dabbed them lightly with hot water that she had sitting over the fire in a pot. He winced as the boiling water touched his flesh. He noticed it was uncomfortable for her as well with the hot strips of linen in her delicate hands. Vejita suddenly had a burning desire... As she placed one of the bloodied pieces of cloth on the ground, he seized her hands. She looked frightened at him. He eased his grip on her and brought her hands to his lips. He kissed the pads of her fingers. She visibly froze, her whole body stiff and trembling.   
"I will not hurt you," he whispered. She relaxed slightly. He continued. "Your hands are beautiful. You should not scar them by burning them with hot water." She just looked at him with her gentle, deep blue eyes. Her skin was pale and fair. She wore a dark maroon kimono, simple in design with golden ochre trim that set off the paleness of her skin wonderfully. He looked in her eyes. His intense black gaze burrowing deep into her unguarded soul. He leaned forward slowly and placed a chaste kiss on her full, pink lips. He loved the taste of her, salty like the ocean spray yet sweet as freshly picked fruit. She made no move to pull away nor did she lean in. He pressed against her with more passion; his lips locking with her own. His rough hands still clutched her smaller ones in his. He pulled away suddenly. There was definite shock in her eyes. He smirked. Releasing her hands, he brushed her deep green bangs away from her face gently, taking in all of her splendid beauty.  
"I have not traveled much," he began, breaking the silence. "But I do know that I have not seen beauty that equals yours. Not in the heavens, nor the lush mountains, nor the windswept sea. There is no vision that could rival you," he whispered. Buruma just looked at him, her hands tightly pressed in her lap. She looked down and blushed. He let one hand migrate towards her crown of hair. With a swift movement, he relased the shimmering green locks from their captivity. They bounced freely down her hand. He let his hand roam abandonly through the silky mane of hair. To him, it was comparable to the softest silk that he wished he could possess it. He broke away from her a few minutes later, clearly embarassed..  
She raised one of her delicate hands to stroke the angles of his face. 'What a handsome warrior,' she thought. He closed his eyes and leaned into her gentle ministrations. She herself moved back suddenly and went back to wrapping his arm in fresh bandages. He knew she was still shocked by his compliments. It gave him a sort of pleasure to know that maybe this girl could feel the same way about him as he did about her.  
Vejita had turned fifteen only months before the warring began, yet at that time his father had non-too-gently reminded him of his duties as eldest son to find a suitable wife and continue his father's legacy. He was on;y fifteen but Vejita knew it was common for young men and women to get married in their early teenage years to ensure a quick establishment of the family and to accumulate alliance between clans. When he was thirteen, Vejit had been interoduced to many of the young girls his age, even younger, from the neighboring provinces and clans. They were likable enough but none that fueled a fire in him like battling did. But this young slip of a girl made him want to conquer the world in her name; just so he could see her smile.   
When Buruma was finished, she pressed her hands gently against his chest, avoinding the wounds, and made him lie back on the futon. She tucked the heavy blankets snugly around him and stood up, leaving him alone with only the light of a flickering candle casting romantic shadows on the wall.  
  
Vejita awoke with the faint daylight permeating the room through the rice paper shutters. He stretched gingerly and flipped the covers off his body, quickly being assulted by the brisk morning air. He muscles aches terribly and he hobbled more than walked over to the sliding doors. The crisp autumn air hit him like a knife as he walked out of the room. It was early in the morning and bitterly cold. He cursed silently as he realized he had left his freshly cleaned suo back in the room. 'Bah! It's too late now,' he grumbled as he stalked out of the confines of the small home. He saw that it was a miniature shrine off the side of the main road. Bells tinkled like wind chimes, dangling from the wild treest. Small prayer papers were wrapped and twisted around the lower branches. He walked to the road and knelt by it. By the show of tracks, he knew the army had ridden through here recently but the way the tracks were windswept and fading he knew it had been more than a day. Of course, he knew not which army had been the one to pass by here--- he didn't even know which side had left the victor. He cursed himself silently once more for his cowardice. He headed back towards the buildings of the shrine. He heard the splashing of water over to his right and headed in that direction; the thought of cold water running down his parched throat was enough to make him break out in a jog. As he neared the well, he saw her bent over, lugging a huge wooden bucket from the stone well's depths. Some of the cold water splashed out, soaking her kimono. Her teeth chattered lightly and with each breath that she exhaled, she could see a cloud of fog emerge from her lips. He was quick to step up behind her and take the handle of the heavy bucket. He saw another sitting by her feet.  
Buruma was startled out of her daydreams when she felt someone reach over her shoulder to take the bucket from her. She whipped around to see Vejita picking up the other bucket that was beside her feet. She shook her head furiously and dove to take the buckets from him. He gave a sly grin and lifeted them over his head where she could not reach them. She stomped her foot in protest. She motioned to his wounds where the dried blood was clearly visible, seeping through the bandages. He shrugged and turned around to head back to the shrine. She gave an exhasperated sigh and followed him. He grinned at her over his shoulder. Early in the morning, the lack of sleep was clear in her eyes and they were half-lidded and she wore a sleep yexpression. He thought she looked much younger than she was; only her womanly physique would give her away.  
  
The days continued as this. Both young ones waking up at the crack of the dawn to do the chores that were required of Old Baba then leaving the confines of the grounds to wander the contryside. Vejita knew such tranquility could not last forever, even in a land where time seemed to stop. He was thoroughly enchanted with this valley where time did not exist; the neighbors were cheerful and friendly, food appeared to be bountiful, and each day brought out hidden wonders in this ethereal paradise. But things could not last forver, he knew. A valley so untouched by the hatred of the outside world could not exist in eternity; it could forstall the inevitable but all things took a turn for the worst. This is what he feared the most. In his nightmares he could see the flames of Hell leap up, catching the innocence of this peaceful valley and swallowing it whole. The peak of his dream was when he would see her running over the upper crest of the hill, just above the shrine. She was screaming but no sound spilled from her lips. He did not know her voice yet with his eyes he could see the fear. How she longed to scream but could not. He would race to the top of the hill to save her from what demon was chasing her but when he got there she was gone. He woke up each and every night covered in a cool sweat, pulse racing, and truly afraid. He scowled into the darkness. What did she matter to him that he would have night after night of these endless dreams filled with her silent screams.  
He threw on his zori sandals and shuffled down the hall, determined to escape his demons in the calm of dawn's first light. He saw Buruma crouched at the end of the worn footpath that led to the main road. His first thought was that she was hurt and he quickly rushed to her side. "Buruma!" he cried out, not caring if he had awaken every beast or man within a ten mile radius. He flew down by her side in panic. She looked up at him startled. Quickly he hauled her to her feet, giving her a once over to make sure she was not harmed. She put a slender finger to her lips, telling him without words that he needed to be quieter. He looked at her sheepishly and mumbled an apology. She gave him a slight smile and turned to walk back to the temple. He took great even strides down the dirt and stone path while she daintily shuffled beside him in her getas. For every one of his steps, she had to take four or five. She reached into the sleeve of her kimono and took out a parchment and held it out for him to read, she avoided his eyes. He slowed as he unfurled the yellowed scroll, damp from the morning dew. Buruma did not slow down however, she maintained her speed and trained her eyes on the pathway ahead of her.  
"What is this, Buruma? When did you find it?"  
She shook her head and grabbed his arm, unsuccessfully trying to tug him inside the main door of the shrine. She heard Old Baba hobbling down the hall and just as quickly released his arm from her vice.   
"What? Such early birds! Buruma, I think some nice ocha is in order," Baba requseted. Buruma bowed politely and scurried off, the sleeves of her kimono clutched tightly in her hand.  
  
Vejita and Old Baba sat across from each other solemnly in the main room of the shrine. An old iron bell hung on the wall behind the old woman and the room was littered with atifacts and relics of religious rituals. Buruma had come and left the fresh pot of tea between them then returned to the cramped kitchen to make breakfast.  
"Does she know?" the woman asked finally breaking the silence.  
"I don't know. It's hard to tell. She was looking at something when I found her. She might know--- but then--- I don't know..." he finally admitted.  
Baba nodded her head knowingly, "An enigma that girl."  
"Even if she did know, what would it do? I still have to leave."  
"I agree," the old woman muttered begrudgingly. "You could claim asylum here..."  
"Asylum...mercy...mean nothing to these people."  
"Even your own family?"  
"I shamed and dishonored them. You above all people, Baba, should recognize honor."  
"I do. But---"  
"Enough," he cut in. "I was a coward in the heat of battle and shall pay the price."  
"You speak with wisdom above your years."  
"War tends to make men out of young boys."  
"Yes," she agreed. "It has that power, among other things."  
Buruma returned with chawan bowls heaped with rice and furikake (seasoning) and bowls of miso soup. She set them down and then took a seat between Vejita and Old Baba. She looked nervously between the two of them though she tried hard not to show. Vejita could smell her fear. 'I'm afraid, Buruma, I will not be able to protect you as I hoped to,' he thought to himself.  
They finished their meal in relative silence. Baba cleared her throat drily, raising her eyebrows at Vejita.  
Vejita shifted nervously on the tatami mat. Suddenly, there was a loud **whap **and both Baba and Vejita looked up. Buruma had her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Her chopsticks were slammed forcefully against the low wooden table. Though she spoke no words, her meaning was clear. She looked pointedly at Vejita.  
"I have to go," he stated obstinately. Her eyes locked with his, unwavering in intensity. "No doubt you read the summons," he continued. "They're looking for me and I won't put you or Old Baba in trouble for harboring a potential vagrant," he growled.  
She shook her head adamantly, silently begging him to stay within the sanctity of the shrine.  
"She may have a point. You could always claim sanctuary within the confines of these sared walls."  
Vejita scoffed at the notion. "Just another point to prove my cowardice. That is all they need. They will come asylum* or not. And who will I have to protect me?" he asked sardonically. "An old woman and a mute."   
Buruma pushed back from the wooden table, jarring the contents to spill on the floor. Yet she paid them no mind as she raced out of doors.  
Baba bent to pick up a tea cup which now carried a good-sized chip in its side. "You should not say such foolish things, Vejita-kun. You're quick tongue will land you in trouble one day."  
  
Buruma picked up the ends of her kimono and stumbled through the underbrush behind the shrine. Tears pricked her eyes, daring to slide down her cheeks. She absently pushed them aside with the back of her sleeves. Stumbling over the roots and rocks that darted the path way in her getas, she manuuvered deeper into the underbrush. 'So that is what he thinks of me... A helpless mute.' Inside she shook with rage. She had saved him from the brink of death, taken care of him when he could not take care of himself, even come to feel... she did not know what she felt.  
After they had become something of friends, Vejita would tell her all about his family and friends back home. He didn't fear that she would tell anyone, she afterall, spoke not a word, ever. It had been easy to teach him to read her ways however. For though she didn't have words, she had others to express herself.  
Buruma stopped as she heard the telltale rushing of water. A few feet into the brush lay a tumbling brook headed by a miniature waterfall. This was where she came when she wished to be alone; not even Vejita knew of this place.  
Yet sometimes she wished she coulf cry out in anger...sorrow... shout with joy...happiness... whisper into the night as she lay with her dearest companion, deep in slumber, how much she loved him.  
When the thought first struck Buruma in the middle of the night as she watched Vejita pouce around at the front of the temple, trying to catch fireflies, she had cast it aside. She did not think she could love any man after... She had longed blocked the memories of that night into the far reachest of her mind. The consequences... she vowed never to speak again lest the men recognize her voice and come after her.   
Buruma shook her head to dispell the faint fluttering of the memories as they threatened to emerge.  
  
'I like the way she screams,' one chuckled in a raspy voice.  
'Yes, such a pretty voice,' another voice added.  
  
Buruma wrapped her arms around her body, pulling the kimono dangerously tight. Her lungs racked with silent sobs as she tried to gain her breath. It had take so long to forget what had transpired that night.  
There had to be something wrong with her... for Kami let something so bad happen to her. Old Baba often talk of karma and the ways of reincarnation. The only way Buruma could see why that awful that had happened was that she had a bad soul inside... she deserved it. After that night, she had never spoken again for fear that the men would remember her voice. And after a time, she had simply accepted that she could speak--- would not.  
When Old Baba had purchased her from the slavetrader, who in turn had found Buruma lying unconscious by a rice paddy and claimed her for his 'stock,' had never questioned Buruma's nonverbal ways. She accepted the young girl as she ways-- accepting that Buruma had created this 'mute' facade for herself and the old woman would not try to change her as long as she did her work. Old Baba was astute, Buruma knew. The elderly witchlady believed Buruma could speak and would when she wanted to-- something had happened that pushed the young girl into silence.   
Buruma wiped the last of her tears from her wet cheeks. She had told no one. Who would believe her? It was dangerous in this day in age to accuse a man of attacking a girl. The man would most likely be cleared of the charges and in the end, he would seek out the girl who dared face him and she would promptly 'disappear.' Buruma shuddered. She did not want to bring that fate upon herself. Her would have fought for her honor? No one but herself.. a casualty that could not be afforded.   
Buruma's body felt heavy from exhaustion and lay down on the dewey moss with the soft lulling of the rushing water. Within moments, she was sleeping softly as the sun slid across the sky, making its way to the other horizon, where it would seek its' nighttime respite.  
  
Buruma awoke with a start. The first thing she noticed was that it was dusk. The wind whipped around her and she shivered.   
'Oh no!'   
She picked herself up from the warm moss and raced back towards the temple. She held the telltale 'gong' of the evening bell as Old Baba stood upon tiptoes on a wooden stool and beat the copper gong with the mallet. Buruma skidded to halt in front of her guardian. Old Baba looked over her shoulder at the girl who was out of breath and had a bewildered look in her eyes.  
"He's already left, a good way up the path by now," Baba told the girl. Buruma shot off like an arrow. She could not miss him! How would she live without being able to say good-bye to her closest friend...the one she loved...?  
She could barely make him out over the crest of the hill; he had just reached the main path. Her feet pounded furiously on the gravelled path but he kept up his steady pace, moving farther and farther away.   
  
**When you walk away, you don't hear me say, "Please... oh, baby..."**  
  
Buruma stopped suddenly when she felt the earth began to quake. A thousand horse hooves moved the ground beneath her feet and she was forced to crouch low just to keep from falling. She watched as a small army massed from points in the forest and grouped at the head of crest. She watched as the herd of men on horseback approached Vejita who had a sack thrown over his back. Buruma strained her ears but they were too far away to hear.  
  
"Halt!" one of the men on horseback called out to the young man. Vejita stopped as he reached the top of the pathway, squinting up at whoever had addressed him. The man on horsebak looked startled for a moment.   
"Young Master Vejita?"   
Vejita glared at the man, appraising him. "Hmph. It is I."  
The man broke out in a grin. "We've been searching everyway for you, Young Master," the man answered. Another horseman broke from the group to trot up to Vejita on his horse.  
"I assume you've seen the summons."  
Vejita nodded his ascent. "I was hoping to be away from here before you arrived," Vejita stated honestly.  
The man looked taken back by Vejita's blunt answer.  
"On foot, you would not have reached far," he said.  
Vejita shrugged. "The shrine back down the road---leave it untouched."  
The man gave an arrogant smirk. "In your position, you are in no way to make demands."  
Vejita drew his katana from its sheath. "You will obey or I will cut you down where you stand," Vejita warned.  
The crowd of samurai chuckled. Vejita was vastly outnumbered yet he maintained a level-head and his warrior's spirit.  
The older man nodded his 'submission.' "You will come willingly if we leave the shrine alone?"  
Vejita stated his affirmation, 'on his honor.' A warrior's honor was nothing to be taken lightly. It was every samurai's reason for being, his code and his life. The man took Vejita's word but jested. "Yet a warrior who flees battle has no honor left to stand by..." he mused out loud.   
Vejita turned a vivid shade of red at his remark. "Speak like that again, soldier, and I'll have your head!"  
"...But within your chest beats the brave heart of the warrior." The man regarded Vejita for a moment. "Are you ready to return home and face your fate?"  
Vejita gave him his answer without a moment's hesitation. "I am." Another man broke away from the herd with a bay gelding in tow by a lead rope. He tossed the rope who mounted the steed deftly. Vejita never once looked back down the worn, beaten path leading towards the shrine. If he had, he would have seen a young girl of about fifteen year, clutching her hands to her chest, the wind playing wildly with her hair, the color of the deep forest. Her blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears, watching his retreating form, hoping to catch his backward glance.  
  
Buruma watched, helpless, as he rode off with the band of horsemen. She wanted to call out to him; to beg him to stay with all the words her heart possessed but she could do nothing but stare, her feet fixed to the earthen ground.  
  
'We will me one day again, Vejita-kun. Somewhere out there...' She shook her head in admonishment at her silly fantasy. 'No, I don't think life is that simple...'  
  
Vejita rode for two days. His whole body ached from the rigors of rocking within the sway of his mount's back. They had no been kind enough to give him a saddle pad, so he rode bareback. He saw the 'fortress' of his father's mansion looming in the distance. The party galloped through the maze of rice paddies with the multitude of field workers gathering the bushels of grain. As they slowed before the lowering drawbridge, Vejita sucked in his breath. He knew he would pay the prive for his cowardice. The recluse in the shrine had been nice but things of that nature never lasted long. Befriending the girl has been a mistake he had known all along in the back of his mind for he knew they would come searching for him when his body was not counted among the dead. He feared his father's wrath but pain was fleeting. He felt a small pain that he recognized as misery. He missed her company a bit, he would admit that much. But he had the rest of his life to think about. Perhaps, when he father had finally forgiven him and when he was old enough to travel on his own... perhaps he would seek out Old Baba's shrine and the one true friend he had left behind. Looking up at the fearful, towering walls of the Vejita-sei mansion, Vejita shook his head slightly. 'No, fool, I do not think life is that simple," he concluded before the party marched forward in the open jaws of fate.  
  
  
eh... took me frickin' forever for this. serious... this is the first time i covered time passage in one chapter (long term at least). a bit awkward but i hope it was not noticeable. so what do you think? eh... it is sad but that's the point. hope you liked! ^_~ please r/r!  
  
rev kurame_  
  
  
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	2. Ten Years to Find the Words

chapter two... this is the ten year gap in which both vejita and buruma grow up. don't know how i'm gonna do this yet... hmm... it may take awhile. listen to "simple and clean" by utada hikaru. once u have the lyrics memorized, perhaps by then, i will have the next chapter out. hehehe...  
**** A/N: what i portray here is my depiction from my imagination. most is fiction, some is fact. i researched, trust me. and took some of the facts and combined it with my imagination. i'm not a historian so don't go to your teachers and say 'well, this girl online said....' no, i do not claim to know everything, nor do i stand by my writing as historically correct in all aspects. remember that.***  
  
disclaimer: i don't own dragonball z, obviously.   
but neither do i own any references to icons or names from rurouni kenshin nor do i own the lyrics used in this chapter.  
**  
Simple and Clean  
  
Scroll Two:  
Ten Years to Find the Words**  
  
A thin ray of light pierced through a crack in the wall, landing on Buruma's face. She moaned and flipped over. 'It is too early' she grumbled to her self. She pushed her futon blanket off her haphazardly. It fell, draping across the girl next to her. Buruma turned around when she heard a muffled voice call out her name sleepily.  
"Buruma..."  
Buruma giggled softly. She did not wish to wake the others yet. It was Buruma's turn this week to fetch in the water from the well for breakfast. This was one of the most dispised chores because it was so cold out and if one spilled the water from bucket onto herself, the cold became even more bitter. Yet Buruma did her chore dutifully. Everyone had to do their part here...  
Buruma shuffled outside, bucket in hand. She wished she could have stayed with Old Baba at the shrine. She expressed as much whenever Baba made comments about Buruma finding her fortune elsewhere. There was nowhere Buruma would rather be than with the elderly old woman. Afterall, who would care for Old Baba if Buruma left? However, unknown to Buruma, Baba had asked a favor of her brother, The Turtle Hermit, Muten Roshi. He was very happy to oblige his sister and referred Baba to the House Of Kushami, run by a bubbly, young woman named, Ranchi. The preparations had been made and before Buruma could do a thing about it, Old Baba had sent her to the House of Kushami, to find a life more fitting for a young woman than taking care of an old woman in a shrine.  
Buruma hefted the bucket off water, pouring it into the large iron kettle. Then she deftly lit the fire beneath the pot and set the cover over it.  
"Buruma-chan, is that you?" Buruma heard a weary voice call out from the doorway; she looked up. Chi Chi stumbled in whil hastily tying a greatly used apron around her waist. "You could have wakened me up," she murmured, still half-asleep. Buruma grinned and waggled her finger at the girl teasingly.  
An hour later, a dozen or so girl sat around a sake table eating rice and pickles with miso soup. They all stopped and looked up when someone entered from the door. A young woman with blue-black hair, pulled back and curled around her face, a bright red kanzashi (hair ornament) was placed delicately upon her mountain of curls. The girls all placed their chawan bowls on the table and placed their chopsticks on top. Madam Ranchi sat at the head of the table, looking over each of the girls scrutinously.  
Buruma admired Madam Ranchi immensely. The young woman always appeared serene and graceful, always bedecked with the finest kimonos, always speaking so delicately yet so intelligently. However, there was another side to Madam Ranchi. At times she could be severe, harsh and demanding, in her expectations of the young girls. She would often tell them: "Go home. You will never make it here. You really don't have what it takes. You're better off wasting your time elsewhere."  
And many girls had left since Buruma arrived three weeks ago. Some had lost heart and left; others were sent hom after failing in their tasks. Buruma looked around her. The dozen or so girls, besides herself, were the ones that had stuck fast and been determined to succeed.  
Madam Ranchi cleared her throat. "This morning you will practice diligently at your tea serving skills and then perhaps tnoght, I will allow to observe the other girls," she caught them all with her peaceful yet strong gaze. "Do I make myself clear?" she asked.  
The girls all bowed deeply to the tatami mat and answered. "Yes, Mama-san."  
  
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He lay on his futon, staring at the ceiling. Three weeks had passed since his father's men had found him at the junction of the main road and the pathway down to the temple. He wondered how they were faring. He tried not to dwell so much on what had transpired the day he left. He regreted his harsh worse towards the gentle young girl. He growled to himself. He shouldn't think so much; thoughts as such would prove his weakness. As punishment, his father had kept him prisoner within his home. The older Vejita had stated that 'there were no words to express his anger,' 'that his son had shamed him greatly for running and hiding,' and 'he was not worthy of the title of Vejita.' Vejita cringed mentally. Countless times he had told his father how he understood his wrongdoing and would make atonement anyway he knew how. But his old man sure knew how to pour salt in the wound by reminding Vejita of his failure at becoming a warrior every single day. Vejita growled once more. He was so damn sick and tired of being coped up in doors. If his father was going to throw him out, he should just do it. 'I have better things to do than sit here and rot.' He rolled off the cushy futon bed pad and grabbed his katana. He wrapped the sheath's rope around his waist and tied a small satchel to the side opposite his katana. He filled that with his small stash of coins. He grabbed some fruit from the small hotoke-sama (buddhist portable shrine), praying silently for forgiveness for 'stealing' from the shrine of worship. He slipped out through the back, a heavy haori (over jacket) tucked under one arm.   
By nightfall, Vejita was good way away from his home. He glanced every once in a while over his shoulder, watching as his childhood home, his sanctuary, grew fainter and fainter the farther he went. By now, his father would have discovered him gone yet Vejita knew how to cover his tracks. He stayed off the paths and slipped along through the shadows of the forest. He stopped every once in a while to rest his feet or to drink at bit from passing streams. He fell asleep sheltered under the roots of a tree with the haori pulled tightly around his body.  
The next day he traveled without stopping. He passed two villages without venturing inside. They woudl be the first places his father would think to send his horsement to look for his runaway son. The older Vejita was very authoritative, a true leader, but he wasn't the brightest star in the sky. He wasn't half as clever as the young Vejita.   
Many times Vejita thought of going back to Baba and Buruma at the shrine. But he abadoned that thought; he didn't want to think what would befall them under his father's wrath should he discover Vejita there. No, his life was his to deal with alone...  
He arrived at a large port by the sea. He was too tired to ask where he was, what day it was; he simply tossed a few coins to the innkeeper and crashed into his room. He threw his katana haphazardly next to his futon and fell limply onto the wellworn mattress. When dawn rose the next morning, Vejita felt all the miles he had traveled ache within his body. He groaned and flipped onto his back. His stomach rumbled, and searching through his small satchel, Vejita found a persimmon to appease his hunger.  
Vejita meandered through the bsuy sea port. He was not worried here. It was far too crowded for any to distinguish one body from the next, let alone recognize a face. Vejita turned a corner, bumping into a man.   
"Watch it!" Vejita growled menacingly.  
The other man was a full head taller than himself, staring down his nose at Vejita. "What did you say, boy?"  
"I told you to watch where you're going," Vejita repited with malice.  
"I thought so," the man replied serenely. "Watch that mouth of yours, boy, unless you want to lose your life."  
"Are you threatening me?" Vejita asked, his hands flying to the sword at his side.  
"A little slow, aren't you?" the man mused.  
"That's enough!' Vejita shouted, drawing his katana. Within a few seconds, the sword was knocked swiftly from his hands. It clattered to the ground a few feet away. Next Vejita felt his feet give away under him in one smooth motion and was on his back, a deadly blade of steel pressed tightly against his neck.  
"Never underestiamtre your opponent, boy," he spat at the young man. "What's a hot head like you doing running aroung a dangerous place like this?" he asked, smirking. He eased up on his sword, allowing Vejita to scramble to his feet.  
"None of your business," Vejita said, nonchalantly, resheathing his sword.   
"Fine," the other man consented.  
Vejita eyed him warily. "How did you move so quickly?"  
The man grinned slyly. "That is a secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you."  
Vejita set his mouth, determined. "Then kill me, for my curiosity is all I have left in this world. It must be satisfied."  
The man nodded his ascent. "You are brave, I'll give you that." He looked the young man over. The boy had a week's worth of stubble on his chin, his clothes were spattered with mud and grass stains---and above all--- he stank. "This way," the man said, tilting his head towrds a nearby alley. Vejita looked around curiously. Did the man just invite him to come with him? Did that mean the man was going to kill him? Vejita swallowed a lump in his throat. 'Kami, what have I gotten myself into?' The man cleared his throat.   
"Are you coming or not?"  
Vejita nodded, hesitantly, before following the man through the dark alley.  
  
If Vejita had known exactly where the man was talking, he undoubtedly would not have gone. The man led Vejita through a series of twists and turns, maneurvering like worms through the port. Vejita feets ached after pounding up and down on the unpaved pathways for what seemed like hours. Finally, the man stopped in front of a well lit home, rapping four times on the door. They waited patiently until a young woman opened the door a crack to 'inspect' the visitors. "Bardaku-sama! Come inside!" she cried, ushering the older man in. She eyed Vejita for a moment before looking up at 'Bardaku.' He nodded and she dragged Vejita in as well.  
  
Vejita inhaled the food at the table at a tremendous pace. Bardaku and the young woman looked up at each other. Bardaku was amused, the woman who ever was not. She slapped his elbows off the table.  
"We are NOT barbarians, so we will not eat as such, understand?" she commanded.  
Vejita nodded vaguely before he began inhaling food once more. She gave a sign of defeat.  
Bardaku chuckled. "So? Are you still interested in my fighting style, boy?" he gently reminded Vejita.  
Vejita looked up, his mouth stuffed with dumplings. He nodded vigorously before swallowing the lump of food.  
"I am a student of the Hiten Mitsuruji School of kenjutsu."  
Vejita almost spit out the ocha (tea) he was drinking.  
Bardaku continued, "My master was a descedent of the Hiten Mitsuruji line and took me in when I was a boy." Bardaku turned to contemplate Vejita. The woman seemed to notice this.  
"You aren't serious, Bardaku-sama," she asked, snappishly.  
"He reminds me of myself at that age. He is brave, simply misled."  
Vejita turned red as the two exchanged comments as if he weasn't sitting right there in front of them! "What in Kami's name are you talking about?!" he interjected.  
Bardaku looked at the young woman one last time before answering. "Would you like to become a disciple of kenjutsu?"  
Vejita dropped his chawan bowl. The young woman muttered some curses under her breath and swept up the spilt rice. "You would teach me?" Vejita asked, unbelieving.  
Bardaku nodded. "I believe you have potential... but are you ready for the challenge?"  
Vejita thought about this for a moment. "I could leave my past behind... start anew and prove my honor," He nodded decidedly. "It would be the greatest honor if you would take me as your pupil," he said, bowing low on the tatami before the older man. Bardaku smirked. He called over his shoulder to the young woman who was in the kitchen. "Sazae! Make up a spare bedroom. We will be having a guest...for awhile." Bardaku snickered as he heard his housegirl growl and move to make another rom ready. He thumped Vejita on the back. "I think this is the beginning of a wonderful relationship, boy," he grinned.  
  
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"You will do as Madam Ranchi instructs you," Mai ordered. The young assistant proprietress loomed over the cowering Buruma. The dozen or so young girls of the House of Kushami sat in two rows, facing each other with a shamisen (three-stringed instrument) before each one of them.   
Mai was about fed up with the interminable silence of the green-haired twit. She refused to speak and now that they had to practive singing ballads that they would use later on on the stages of the House of Kushami. Without hesitation she rose her hand in the air, bringing it down harshly on the girl's cheek. She had had enough with being patient with the mute. "You see here. I will not tolerate any of this insubordination. You will adhere to my teachings or I will through you out readily. Do I make myself clear?" She emphacized her words by grabbing Buruma by the chin and shaking her roughly.  
Madam Ranchi stood at the head of the room watching the exchanged benignly. Mai looked up at the Head Proprietress. "What shall we do?" she asked the older woman. Madam Ranchi tilted her head delicately. "If she does not speak now, we will teach her," she said passively yet with force behind her words. Mai grabbed Buruma by the wrist forcefully and dragged her out the back of the building.  
Buruma struggled against the older woman's grip. For a tea hostess, she was exceedingly strong. Painful, stinging tears entered the corner of Buruma's eyes. She hated how Baba had 'forced' her out of the shrine. She had been happy there but Baba thought she needed a new life outside the weary shrine walls. Baba still had the papers of Buruma's property ownership and 'sold' her to the ocha-ya (tea house) to train to become and geisha. 'I don't want to be a geisha! I just want to go home!' Buruma cried to herself.  
Mai grabbed the girl around ehr waist and hauled her to the center of the hana-machi (community of the geisha). "Koko ni kite," Mai ordered to two other propritress' assistants. Mai undid the sash around Buruma's kimono, causing the clothing to lay slack on her skin. Mai yanked down the collar so the kimono rested around Buruma's elbows. The other assistants tied each of Buruma's wrists to a pole so she was stretched loosely between them.  
Mai whispered harshly in her ear. "You will speak out now, girl, or I will make you cry out," she threatened. She rose a wooden paddle over her shoulder, sending it flat against the tender, pale skin of the young girl's shoulders. Buruma bit her lip, drawing blood.  
It was bitter..salty, running through the lines of her lips to drip onto the ground which drank it up greedily.   
Mai brought the paddle up once more then sent it forcefully colliding with Buruma's shoulder blades. The older woman saw a small spilt run up her left shoulder blade with a think ribbon of blood coursing the crack in her skin.  
Buruma felt her shoulder break under the force of the wooden paddle. There was a warm silky sensation that came after the paddle lifted. She let out a gasp, one that she had been holding in.  
Mai looked at the large bluish yellow bruise that was forming. She leaned over the girl simpathetically. "All you have to do is speak a word and the pain will stop. Can you do that?"   
Buruma shook her head weakly. 'Doesn't she understand I can't speak?'  
Mai took the paddle over her shoulder once more.  
  
"Ahhhhhh!"  
The paddle was sticky with a light coating a blood. It had been a light oak in the afternoon but the rays of the dying sun, gleamed off the purplish-red coating giving it a deathly glow. Mai dropped the paddle from her hand and rushed at the girl, cradling her head to her chest.  
They had been out in the harsh sun for hours, neither yeilding to the other. Yet finally, Mai sighed, the girl had given one desperate cry, a plea for the pain to end. Mai signaled to the assistants to release the girl from her binds. Buruma slumped weakily against Mai; the older woman holding her steady.  
"Bring me a bucket of warm water and some clothes," Mai ordered. The two assistants looked at each other in consternation. "GO!" Mai bellowed when they didn't obey right away.  
Buruma whimpered as the hot strips of linen were placed against her skin. Mai shushed her softly. "It was your own doing," she reasoned. "But now, we have heard your voice and you must show us over and over again," she cooed gently in Buruma's ear.  
  
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Vejita rolled to one side, barely avoiding the swing of the kendo pole as it collided on the space of ground where he once lay. He barely had time to wipe the sweat from his brow before he was on the defense again from his master. Too late. The kendo stick whirled quickly through the air effortlessly knocking Vejita's feet out from under him.   
Vejita groaned after picking himself off the ground. He brushed dirt and bits of grass off his hakama (pants). He heard a deep chuckle coming from his master. He growled.   
"What so funny?"  
"Nothing, boy, except that you continue to make the same mistakes over and over. You're blind spot which I have repeatedly reminded you off remaines unguarded and your concentration is sorely lacking." He looked over his pupil who was currently sporting a very disgruntled look. "How do you hope to graduate the Hiten Misturuji School if you do not improve?"  
Vejita titled his head bac, frustrated. "I do not know," he mumbled. "I try, Bardaku-sama. I really do."  
"Well then, you must try harder," Bardaku ordered gruffly.  
Vejita took in a deep breath, exhilerating in the freshness of the air. "Let's get started then," he said, picking up his kendo pole.  
Bardaku nodded in agreement and got into fighting stance. Vejita followed suit. The two men faced off against each other in silence, their eyes communicating the spiritual battle. Suddenly, they rushed forward, poles ready to attack...  
  
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Buruma poised her nimble fingers over the strings of the shamisen.   
"And begin." She heard a gentle voice instruct her. She looked up nervously. Madam Ranchi along with the other okami-sans (heads of the geisha houses) sat at the head of the room. The walls were lined with the other girls looking just as nervous as she. She heard a throat clear to her left. She looked over and saw Lady Mai smiling at her generously, encouraging her. Buruma swallowed her nervousness and placed her hands on the delicate strings. She plucked the opening chords gently and the music poured forth. After the opening instrumental, she faltered. She looked back to her instructor. Mai nodded in encouragement, motioning for her to continue. Buruma started up the instrumental where she had left off, she opened her mouth and sang...  
  
aoi kage ni tsutsumareta suhada ga  
toki no naka de shizuka ni furuete-ru  
inochi no yukue wo toikakeru you ni  
yubisaki wa watashi wo motomeru   
  
tamashii  
  
dakishimeteta unmei no anata wa  
kisetsu ni saku maru de hakanai hana  
kibou no nioi wo mune ni nokoshite  
chiri isogu azayaka-na sugata de  
  
watashi ni kaeri nasai  
umareru mae ni  
anata ga sugoshita daichi e to  
kono te ni kaeri nasai  
meguriau tame  
kiseki wa okoru yo nando demo  
  
tamashii no rufuran...  
  
Buruma strummed lightly on the strings, giving an instrumental, a reprieve to her singing. She was not used to using her voice that singing was a great strain. She took great swallows of her saliva to lubricate her worn throat. She was so intent on her playing of the shamisen that had she looked up she would have seen that everyone in the room was spellbound from the melody of her voice.  
  
inou you ni mabuta tojita toki ni  
sekai wa tada yami no soko ni kieru  
soredemo kodou wa mata ugokidasu  
kagiri aru eien wa sagashite  
  
watashi ni kaeri nasai  
kioku wo tadori  
yasashisa to yume no minamoto e  
anata mo kaeri nasai  
aishiau tame  
kokoro mo karada mo kurikaesu  
  
tamashii no rufuran  
  
watashi ni kaeri nasai  
umareru mae ni  
anata ga sugioshita daichi e to  
kono te ni kaeri nasai  
meguriau tame  
kiseki wa okoru yo nandodemo  
  
tamashii no rufuran  
  
Buruma finished, bowing slightly over the shamisen. All she heard was silence and all she saw were stars. 'I have displeased them,' she thought sadly. She was broken from her sorrowful train of thought with the resounding noise of hands clapping together furiously. She looked up and everyone had the largest smiles on their faces. Buruma looked over hesitantly at Lady Mai, the woman who had taught her to use the shamisen, even more than that: the woman who had helped her find her voice again.   
Mai beamed at her pupil proudly. She shuffled over to the young green-haired green and knelt by her.   
"Very well done, my maiko," she whispered into Buruma's ear. Buruma looked up at her wide-eyed.   
At first she could not find the words to speak, then she asked shakily, "D-do you really mean that sensei?" (sensei means teacher)   
Mai smiled once more and nodded. "You will be my disciple, Buruma-chan," she promised. "I know one day you will become a wonderful geisha." Buruma bowed once again to her teacher, so low the tip of her nose touched the tatami mat. "Arigatou gozaimasu," she whispered fiercely. "I will not disappoint you, sensei."  
Mai tilted the girl's chin up to look her in the eyes. "No, I know you will not."  
  
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Vejita shifted the short sword, his wakizashi, by his side. It was difficult getting used to carrying two swords, one on either side of his body. Yet Vejita brushed that minor annoyance now. He had completed his training of the kenjutsu with his master Bardaku, even going so far so assimilate all of his masters techiniques then creating some of his own. In Bardaku's words, he had 'created honor for himself from the ashes of his past.' Vejita was now on his way to Kyoto as part of his first assignment as a hitokiri (shadow assassin). Vejita had no qualms about killing people if they deserved to die. Though he had never disclosed his past to his master, Vejita, now five years older, kept a secret pact with himself to given atonement for his cowardice on the battlefield all those years ago by giving justice to those who could not defend themselves.  
He stopped at the first inn he happened upon, renting a small room and ordering a small meal in the adjoining tavern. Vejita slurped up his miso soup quckly. He was dead tired from walking all day that all he wanted to do was crash into the bed he knew was waiting upstairs.  
He felt the wind shift behind him and before anyone in the tavern knew what was happening he had his katana drawn and pointed at a man's neck. The man whimpered slightly at the sharp cut of steel at his neck.  
"What do you want?" he ground out harshly.  
The other man just stood, cowering in his getas (slippers), eyes darting nervously around the man. Vejita noticed his apprehension at the confrontation being monitored by everyone on the room. Vejita looked at them from the corner of his eye.  
"What are you looking at?" he barked. Immediately, everyone went back to what they were doing before the incident. "Now," Vejita said, turning his attention back to the man at the end of his sword, "what business do you have disturbing me during my meal?" The man swallowed, scared. "Lower your sword," a voice from the shadows ordered.  
"I take orders from no man," Vejtia snarled.  
"Then consider it a request," the man in the shadows rebutted.  
"Too afraid to show your face then you send your own cowards to do your work?" Vejita scoffed.  
The man in the shadows chuckled. "I merely sent Shiu to ask you to please join me at my table. You are the one who took the offense," he jibed.  
Vejita grumbled and lowered his sword, resheathing it. Shiu breathed a sigh of relief then retreating out of 'stabbing range' of Vejita.  
"Will you join me?" the man asked. Vejita nodded his ascent and motioned for an attendent in the tavern that he was finished with his meal. Vejita crossed over to stand before the bank of shadows.  
"Now show yourself," he demanded. A man with three eyes stepped out of the shadows. Vejita scrutinized him "You're not from around here," he deduced.  
The man chuckled. "No, I'm not. I come from a province in the far North."  
"What do you want with me?" Vejita asked, tilting his head curiously.  
"I noticed you had both the daitou and shotou (long and short sword) on your person. And the lightening fast reflex you had towards my footman only confirms my suspicions. You are a student of the Hiten Mitsurugi, are you not?"  
"I am," Vejita said flatly.  
"I am in need of your services for my master's sake."  
"I already have a duty to my family to seek out the evilness in Kyoto and vanquish it with my twin blades," Vejita countered.  
"A noble cause no doubt," the three-eyed man said. "However, would it not be worth your while to battle evil while earning coin?"  
Vejita thought this over for a moment. "I suppose.... what would this service to render you entail?" he asked after a while.  
"My master's, the child emperor's, court is overrun with corrupt advisors and even more corrupt administrators. We are in need of a warrior like yourself to help me protect his royal Highness," the three-eyed man said.  
"I work alone," Vejita said as he turned to leave. The man put his hand on Vejita's shoulder to stop him. Vejita promptly spun around, drawing his shotou, his wakizashi, and holding it directly against the three-eyed man's throat. The man's point of pulsing raged against the cold metal.   
"Don't touch me," he growled. The other man lifted his hands in defeat.  
"I'm sorry," the man offered. "You are no ordinary warrior, I can see." The three-eyed man scrutinized the sword that was still pressed into the crevice of his neck. "If I didn't know better, I would say you were hitokiri."  
"Maybe I am," Vejita said dangerously.  
"In that case, you are perfect for the job. You will work alone if that is what you desire. I will simply remain as the Emperor's attendant."  
Vejita's mouth twisted in thought. "I want to be paid as if I were two men," he demanded.  
The man looked stunned for a moment then broke out into a grin, despite the sword still dangerously close to this neck. "I can see you are of strong character. Very well, you will be paid as if you were two instead of one," the man agreed. Vejita backed up and sheathed his shotou. The three-eyed man bowed to him. "My name is Tienshinhan, attendent and protector and the child emperor, Lord Chiao-tzu."  
Vejita stared at him stonily. "I am that which I am. My name means nothing to you as we will probably never meet formally again."  
"Then I will call you battou-kun, for you do have the fastest draw of the sword I have evern encountered."  
Vejita smiled benignly. "So when do I begin?"  
  
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"One, two, three, four... one, two, three, four... c'mon, ladies, graceful now. Maron, please keep in time. NOW, one, two, three, four... one, two, three, four..." Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose. The girls that had remained through the severest training were now entering the stages of dance. They were practicing the grandest of all the known dances, the "Cho-no-michiyuki" ('Journey of the butterflies').   
Mai groaned. She was getting the biggest headache situated at her temples. Some of the girls had perfect rhythm, others were lacking in the department by a landslide; and it was these girls with no sense of rhythm that was throwing everyone off.  
"Stop! Stop!" she commanded.  
Chi Chi stumbled, startled and bumped into Marron who went tumbling off the stage. "Gah!" the aqua-haired girl squealed as she fell off right onto her face. The girls started snickering but were soon silenced by the smoldering glare of their instructor.  
"This dance encompasses the story of a love that will never die. Two lovers forbidden to be together kill themselves and are reborn as butterflies to fly among the rape blossoms together for all eternity. The dance is gracful; the dance is serene; the dance is majestic... the dance is NOT what I have just been shown. Obviously you have not been practicing enough. Three more hours of renshuu (practice) for each of you before the day is done. Now, go," Mai said, fuming. Sighing, she leaned her head back. 'What did I do to deserve this, Kami?' She noticed a shy green-haired girl making to slip out the side door. "Buruma-chan, may I please speak with you?"  
Buruma stiffened and turned around. She shuffled back to the room to stand in front of her onee-san (older sister, also older woman mentor as used here). "Yes, Mai onee-san?"  
"I noticed your dancing has greatly improved."  
"Oh...thank you, onee-sama," Buruma said bowly deeply.  
"If you would like to start accompanying me on appointments..."  
Buruma gave her a small smile. "I thank you very much for thinking of me, Mai onee-san, but I don't think I'm ready yet." Buruma bowed once more then shuffled out of the room towards the back gardens.  
Mai rested her cheek in one hand thoughfully. 'I know she is ready... what is she waiting for?' Mai shook her head. It was useless to waste her percious time on these trivial things right now. She had an arranged meeting to get ready for.  
  
Buruma managed to remain a maiko to her elder 'sister,' the geisha Mai Shiniji for five years longer than the average maiko. (hope you all know a maiko is basically a geisha in training ^-^)  
  
Marron pushed a small wooden comb through her hair. The tsubaki-abura (camellia oil) went slick across her aqua hair, giving it a silky sheen. She turned to her geisha-sister, Chi Chi who was pinning small sakura (cherry blossom) pins into her own hair that was as black as midnight. She felt another set of hands start to readjust the pins that were wayward.  
"Buruma!" Chi Chi exclaimed. "Where have you been? Mai has been looking everywhere for you."  
"Forest," Buruma answered concisely.  
"I see, well, Madam Ranchi is not going to approve of your being so late."  
"As you can see, I'm ready," replied Buruma. "Where as you," she emphacized, "are the one running behind."  
Chi Chi blushed. "I'm just so nervous. This is our first performance without our elder sisters to help us," Chi Chi looked up at her friend nervously.  
Marron just giggled. "Don't worry, Chi Chi. It won't be hard. Just smile pretty and bat your eyelashes. They like that," she said, then turned back to her own primping.   
Buruma rolled her eyes. "I don't think men are THAT gullible. Just do as you've always done and you'll be fine," Buruma said soothingly. She placed the last of the pins in her friends hair then got up and left to help prepare with the tea.  
As she entered the kitchen, she noticed the girls in there go silent. Buruma eyed them suspiciously.  
"Well, what is it?"  
One girl, Mikami, coughed gently and looked amongst the other girls before looking up at Buruma. "Buruma-chan, we, Raeki-chan and I, overheard Mai onee-san talking to Madam Ranchi. They're speaking of forcing you to become a geisha or they'll throw you out."  
Buruma looked down at the floor. She knew the day would come one day when the benevolence of Madam Ranchi would run out and she would make Buruma choose her path for life. She knew that Madam Ranchi and Lady Mai had put a lot of time and money into grooming her into the well-bred, cultured woman she was now at twenty-five years old. She owed them so much. She realized as much as she didn't want to be an entertainment bauble to men, she didn't have the heart to turn on the women who were who only family and who had given her so much.  
Buruma made her decision. She would tell Mai onee-chan now before they confronted her with the embarassing ultimatum.  
  
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Vejita waited, crouching on the low rooftop over the market square. His keen eyes scanning for any disturbances otherwise undetectable by the average person. Vejita was far from average. Five years taking odd jobs as an assassin, a bodyguard, a stalker, a killer.... WIth each job he grew leaner and more cunning. His nickname of Battou-kun, coined by the three-eyed Tienshinhan, had grownmore feared and morphed in the assassin name 'Battousai' or "sword-drawing manslayer."  
His current target was a jewel thief guised as a rich lord. He travled in the high cirles of society praying on those he dubbed his "friends."  
The man was in his view. Laughing and joking amongt the cream of society while he picked their pockets. It made Vejita's blood boil. The man clearly had no honor. What was more, was that he even dared to steal from those who were impoverished. He had been trailing the thief for a good two weeks and had witnessed him pillage crops of their fruit, leaving poor farmers and their families to weep in the morning. He had observed as the thief tried to push himself on a sweet, virginal girl who made the mistake of walking home along the back road alone. Luckliy, a merchant and his ox cart happened along that very same road distracting the thief l;ong enough that the girl could run away. Vejita recalled thinking that if the cart had not interrupted, he surely would have.  
A lesser, more impatient man would have struck by now, but Vejita was biding his time until the right moment presented itself. There it was...now. Vejita smirked, catipulting from the rooftop to land in the square. He quickly darted into the crowd before anyone even noticed his abrupt landing. He came to a halt a few feet from his intended target. The man currently was chatting of an older woman, no doubt buttering her up with his charm when Vejita noticed the man slip his hand in her purse. The action went unnoticed by the woman who continued chattin, truly believing the man was interested in what she had to say. 'Boy, is this going to be fun...' Vejita said, smirking.  
He sauntered up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned around and eyed him arrogantly. Then sneered, "What do you want?"  
Vejita did his best impression of ignorant innocence. "I think you should return those things to woman you just took them from."  
"What are you talking about?" the woman asked incredulously.  
"Check your purse. I'm sure you'll find a few things missing," Vejita said with a sinister glance at the man. The thief turned back. 'Kuso! I gotta get out of here!' he said to himself. And he did just that, he turned tail and ran. Vejita just watched him, amused. He heard the woman's indignant cry.  
"You were right. I'm missing some of my money. Why that---why would Lord Konoboshi do such a thing?"  
Vejita smirked at her. "Because he is not Lord Konoboshi; there never was one. He is a travelling theif and trickster named Takeo Zakki."  
"Well?" the woman looked at him expectantly. "Are you just going to let him get away?"  
"No, I think I'll catch him." Vejita said as he turned to walk into the crowd in the direction the thief had run.  
"And just who do you think you are?"  
"Me?" he repeated without turning around. "I am the Battousai."  
  
Of course when Vejita caught up to the man he begged for his life. Vejita ended it mercilessly. He severed the head and secured in a small sack; a token of his work to show his employee that the deed was indeed done. How ironic, Vejita thought. For his current employer had been a wealthy merchant whom the their had swindled in some sort of shady deal and now the their was dead by a paid assassin. The world worked in mysterious ways. Vejita left the body out in the opened, the headless body decaying in the garish sun.  
  
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Buruma stepped out into the brisk air. Ten years of living in the hana-machi in Gion and she still wasn't used to the frigidness of the winter. She remembered the lovelier days of endless spring weather with Old Baba. But those days were long past and she had to take responsibility for her future. This night was her erigae, finally. (erigae is the 'changing of collars' ceremony; the final step to becoming a full-fledged geisha.) She took a deep breath, the cold biting the insides of her lungs, her chest restricted by the tightness of her kimono. 'What an unpleasant event....' she thought to herself bitterly. She watched as her 'sister' geisha came out of the building behind her. Chi Chi scurried over to her.  
"Excited?"  
"Hardly," Buruma answered. In truth, butterflies were running rampant in her stomach.  
Chi Chi smiled. She knew her friend was really nervous even though she pretended not to be.  
"Ready?" she asked, grabbing hold of Buruma's elbow.  
"Ready as I'll ever be," the green-haired younr woman repled. 'Here's the first night of the rest of my life...'  
"Cheer up, Buruma. Perhaps you're future sponsor will be really nice or extremely charitable. Maybe one day you'll be able to buy your freedom from this place," Chi Chi said hopefully.  
Buruma looked down at her kind-hearted friend. "No, Chi Chi, I don't think life is quite that simple," she admitted sorrowfully.  
  
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'Gion...' Vejita looked up at a small sign over an inn door. Vejita had spent the last few days wandering aimlessly. He had no new job 'oppotunities' so he spent his time as a ronin, traveling and contemplating. It all got to be pretty boring so the first big city he spotted he made a bee line for. This place Gion looked like it could be very interesting. Very interesting indeed....  
  
credit to: The Battousai Shrine (http://www.todokanai.net/battousai)  
The Hakone Geisha Association (http://www.geisha.co.jp/eg-01.htm)  
'Japan for Visitors' Guide (http://gojapan.about.com/library/weekly/aa080300a.htm)  
Anime Lyrics of the Neon Genesis Evangelion song 'Tamashii no Rufuran' (http://www.animelyrics.com/anime/eva)  
as you can see i put MUCH research into this. was not so easy because i know like level two japanese. thank you to my mom for helping me with understanding the geisha way as well as kudos to the above sites for their 'part' in my story ^_~ welp, let's see what happens next time. will they meet in Gion, geisha capital of japan? i thought the dance, journey of the butterflies, a romeo and juliet-like story, was such a parallel to my story that i had to insert it somewhere. anywho, till next time! ^-^  
  
rev kurame  
  
  



	3. Yume ni miru yojya, omoi wa asai Hon ni ...

**Scroll Three:**  
**"Yume ni miru yojya, omoi wa asai. Hon ni fukakerya, nemurarenu."**  
  
'You say that you love me and dream of me. Then I can not believe your love.   
How can you sleep? I cannot sleep because I am always thinking about you.'  
  
Buruma walked precariously on the black lacquer slippers that were the trademark footwear of the geisha. She carefully placed one foot in front of the other, balancing on the raised level of the getas. It was a nippy evening and she pulled her heavy kimono tighter around her, but the cold seemed to seep right into the fabric. She saw Chi Chi further up ahead and hastened to her side.  
"When will they let us in?"  
"When they're ready," Chi Chi answered irritably. She glanced over at her friend. Buruma still had the telltale trappings and finery of a maiko with their elaborate make-up and fancy kimonos. But tonight that would change, tonight Buruma would exchange the glamorous kimonos and delicate hair ornaments for a collar of white... the official mark of a full-fledged geisha. The geisha had plainer kimonos and less make-up, their grace and poise gave them all the beauty they needed.   
Buruma though a few years older than the normal maiko is at the time of her erigae ceremony ('changing of collars' ceremony) was still beautiful and radiant, losing none of her beauty as she had grown older. But the patience of Madam Ranchi had worn thin and it was now time for Buruma chose her path for life. Having no other options and feeling very much in debt to Madam Ranchi, Mai and her other instructors, she had chosen to rise to the position of geisha and repay her dues.  
  
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Vejita readjusted his daitou by his side. It was a brisk night out, not one that he wanted to spend out of doors. He trudged wearily down the main street of Gion. A few of the other travelers gave him dark looks and melded back into the shadows of the alleys. He brushed them off as the scrum so notorious of Gion, the geisha capital. He took exceedingly long steps, seeming to glide along the dirty streets of the underworld. Of course, there is a lighter side to every coin, and a mere three blocks from the impoverished shambles of the lower class of Gion, lay the rich quaters of the higher class---only a few steps within reach of each other. Vejita shook his head. What the city he had known so well in his early travels been reduced to? He did not remember the toothless call girls and penniless beggars that now lined the streets. Neither did he remembered the cold-lined pathways of upper Gion. It seemed even cities could lose their innocence to quickly, raped by time.  
Vejita was so caught up in his thoughts that he neglected to notice a young girl scurrying into his path. It was inevitable, he realized too late, to stop the collision. He stooped to help the young girl pick up the fruit that had spilled from her back. Dark green hair, shining luminously in the light from the oil lanterns hung outside the inns. She begged his pardon shily, clutching the basket to her bosom. An old woman shot out from the entrance to an inn, grabbing the girl's elbow roughly.  
"Stupid girl!" she screeched, shaking the young girl violently. "Why didn't you watch where you were going?!" Before the girl could explain herself the woman turned to Vejita. "I am sorry, sir. I will see that she is punished," she said strongly.  
Vejita shook his head. "That will not be necessary," he said, his voice tired from the long day, and now this 'calamitous' incident. "I am the one at fault--"  
"--But I saw her run into you!"  
"I was lost in my thoughts; the fault was mine," Vejita said decisively.  
"If you say so, sire," the woman said bowing. She pulled harshly on the girl to follow her example and the young girl complied, bowing deeply. Vejita shook his head once more.  
"I am no one who deserves such respect," Vejita sighed. "If you will excuse me, ladies," he said with a bow, "I am very tired--"  
The older woman stopped him with her free arm. "Perhaps, you would like to stay at my inn," the woman said, batting her eyelashes. "You indeed look weary from travel. I would be most happy to help you...relax..." she said coyly.  
Vejita looked at the woman in disgust. 'Is she soliciting me?' he thought, furious. "That will NOT be necessary," he ground out before stepping out of her grasp and stomping off. Vejita shook her head sadly. Gion sure had changed since he younger days. His thoughts dwelt on what had just transpired between himself and the young girl. He pondered her for a while, wondering why she stuck so vevidly in his memory. There was something about her... "Feh!" he scoffed. "I have no time to dwell on such things. " He checked into a small inn a good ways a way from the inn run by the older woman that had solicited him. He shuddered at the memory. After depositing a few material belongings in his room, he traveled back downstairs, to drink sake in the main tea room with a few of the other patrons. He sat beside himself in a corner of the room, observing the other occupants while he let the alcoholic drink course through his body, relaxing him. He gave a satisfied sigh.   
He could not think what had brought him to Gion after all these years. One morning as he awoke from his makeshift bed by the side of the road, he had felt the sudden need to travel to Gion, a fantasy playground for men with money. At first he had brushed off the nagging voice that told him that Gion should be his next destination. But finally, the gnawing feeling had worn out and he made his route to Gion.  
Vejita surveryed the room with alert eyes. What ever Powers that Be that had told him to be here, he knew he should be on the look-out for his 'mission.' His reason for being here. So far, all he saw were geishas and drunk men throwing their coins at the geisha. Then his thoughts rested on that girl again, what about here was so familiar... the porcelain-skinned young girl with deep, lustrous forest green hair.  
  
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Buruma stared at herself in the tortoise shell mirror. She took a deep breath. This was the night---the night she would become a full geisha. She only hoped she would not falter, bring shame upon the House of Kushami. Madam Ranchi had been nothing but generous and kind to her and her onee-san, Mai, had been patient and caring. She owed it them to become a successful geisha---one bringing in many customers. That was one aspect Buruma could be thankful for. Unlike the geisha of lower Gion, geisha houses like the House of Kushami had a roster of higher clientel and therefore a different set of rules. Being a geisha in upper Gion meant being an entertainer, an actress, and a mistress to one man. One man would pay to take the innocence of a geisha after her ceremony of erigae and then she would belong to him. He paid her okami-san back doublefold what the head of the geisha house had spent on the turning the lovely young girl into a skilled geisha. And for that payment, she was his and his alone. Of course, she would maintain her duties to the house by singing and dancing for regular customers---but her body belonged only to him. Buruma swallowed a lump in her throat. It was a selfish thought she knew, but she wished she did not find a sponsor for some time to come... maybe never at all? Buruma shook her head, causing delicate glass beads on her hair ornament to jangle lightly. It was a foolish hope, an impossible one.  
Chi Chi slipped in the door to sit next to her Sister. She could read the nervousness on Buruma's feature.  
"Calm down, imouto-chan," Chi Chi smiled radiantly. (**imouto means little sister)  
Buruma looked down at her hands which were trembling. "I wish not to displease our okami-san but---" Tears threatened to leak from her eyes. Chi Chi quickly shushed her friend, dapping away at her corners of her eyes with a lacey linen cloth.  
"Do not start," Chi Chi threatened lightly. "I will not have you mess up your face that we have so painstakingly put together now!"  
The two girls laughed lightly. Then Buruma sighed. "What is it like Chi Chi?"  
Chi Chi blushed. "I know not how to describe it---"  
"No," Buruma looked at her, irritated. "Belonging to another."  
"I suppose it takes some getting used to," Chi Chi mused. "However, this is the life we have chosen to live so our paths have been marked for us." She squeezed Buruma's shoulders as a comforting gesture. Chi Chi slipped out the room as silently as she had come.  
Once again Buruma looked at herself in the mirror. She was far too done up for her taste, her hair slickened with oil and pulled up sverely from her face to an elegant bun decorated with ornaments. Her face was a paltry white and her lips a bright, blinding vermillion, her eyes outlined in kohl, no color flushed her cheeks. She thought she looked dead. 'And no man would want a corpse, all the better,' she thought to herself smugly. She placed the mirror carefully on the table then stood up from her knees. There was nothing she could do to ease the butterflies in her stomach. She spotted a small flask of rice wine in the corner of the room. She took a quick swig, downing the hot fluid to the pit of her stomach. The butterflies were now drunk and dancing not so much. Buruma smiled softly as she replaced the flask. She looked around the room sadly. Her last time she would be able to find sanctuary while she was innocent. After tonight, she feared, all creatures would look upon her as a sinner...  
  
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Buruma felt horrible. As she had feared, men took a liking to her right away. They oogled, they catcalled and made eyes. She tried to retain her dignity by refusing their advances. She was in the midst of telling a customer to go to hell when she saw Madan Ranchi talking rapisly with well-groomed man. At the exact moment Buruma focused in on them, they both turned to regard her. Her heart leaped into throat. 'Dear Kami, no...' She shoved the annoying customer off of her her and turned, she thought to make an escape out the back door of the tea house. Chi Chi intervened, her arm intertwined with that of a very tall man. Chi Chi giggled furiously.  
"Buruma!" she exclaimed, cutting off Buruma's path for retreat. Buruma groaned inwardly. "This is my sponsor, Son Gokou."  
The tall man with wild black hair bowed before Buruma. She returned to favor, looking questioningly at Chi Chi. "And?"  
"He is very good to me," she said while stroking the man's muscular upper arm. "Ne, Gokou-sama?"  
He grinned sheepishly, tucking one arm behind his head. "Chi Chi, you're embarassing me."  
Buruma smiled at the two. No doubt Chi Chi would have him hooked on her arms, no doubt she would get him to marry her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mai signal to her. She walked over, graceful in her getas.  
"Yes, Mai onee-sama?"  
"Madam Ranchi seeks a session with you and one of our customers." She saw Buruma tense. "Buruma, he is very interested in you." She drew Buruma closer. "Don't mess this up, imouto. I have met him. He is a good man." She ushered Buruma into a back room, closing the door before Buruma could turn tail and run.  
Madam Ranchi sat serenely, staring up at Buruma with warmth and courage in her eyes. "Please sit, Buruma-san," she said while ushering to a cushion by a smug-looking man. Buruma sat down gingerly next to him. "Buruma," she called the girl to attention. "This is Yamamoto Yamucha."  
Buruma inclined her head to him in a show of respect. "And what can I do for you?" she asked, her voice less steady than she had hoped.  
He grinned michievously. "What **can** you do?"   
Buruma growled. "If you have brought me here to play games--"  
"Buruma!" Madam Ranchi snapped.  
"Gomen nasai," Buruma said, bowing deeply towards her okami-san. Yamucha grabbed her around the waist, hauling her unceremoniously into his lap.   
"No need for that. Ranchi," he ordered. "I wish to speak to this young woman." He dismissed the much honored master of the House of Kushami as if she was a common housegirl. Buruma grit her teeth. She did not like this man at all. Madam Ranchi gathered herself together and stalked out of the room, silently fuming. However, as a weelbred lady, she never showed anyone her ire. She regained her cool facade once she reentered the main tea room.  
  
Buruma struggled against Yamucha, trying to pry herself from his lap. "Please, sire. I am uncomfortable."  
He stared down at her. "Are you or are you not a geisha?"  
"I am now but not yours to do with as you please," she spat.  
"Oh, but you will be, once I sponsor you," he said evilly.  
"I would not accept such an offer from a disrespectable man such as yourself," she retorted.  
"But that it not your decision to make," he said smoothly.  
Buruma growled and savagely yanked herself from his grip. "You are nothing but a--a---" she struggled for the words.  
He looked up at her, menachingly. "Do you know where I got this scar?" he said, pointing to a thick , jagged line running over one eye.  
Buruma shook her head. "And I really don't care!"  
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down so her face was level with his. "In a battle with the Battousai," he told her.  
Buruma's face paled, though not visible through her thick make-up.   
"You do know who the Battousai is, don't you?"  
"Of course, everyone does," she said, still shaken. "But--but I don't believe you. No one survives the Battousai."  
He gave an indignant sound. "No one survives me," he countered. "That stupid boy---"  
"A boy?"  
"He got one good shot in but I got him," Yamucha said proudly.  
Buruma nodded absently. She could not believe this man. He was not her ideal at all! He gaffawed much too loudly with an open jaw; his gut hung out much too loosely; his teeth were crooked and yellow; his eyes were much too close. Buruma wriggled her nose with distaste as he scratched his... She averted her eyes. Simply disgusting!  
There was boy, she recalled vaguely. A young samurai... she could not remember his face clearly. Sadness flowed through her though she did not know why. Something about that boy, so gentle yet strong, and--- Buruma returned back to the dimly lit tearoom. Sitting once again in front of Yamucha Yamamoto. She shifted uncomfortably under his leary gaze.  
"Is there anything else, Yamamoto-san?" she asked uncertainly.  
He readjusted himself on the cusion, pondering the question. "Ranchi said you would entertain me. I wish to see if you will be worth sponsoring," he grinned.  
Buruma swallowed, nervous, pulled out a shamisen from the corner of the room, adjusting it into her lap. She tested the strings a few times and cleared her throat.  
"Fukai fukai mori no oku ni ima mo kitto... Okizari ni shita kokoro kakushiteru yo... Sagasu hodo no chikara mo naku tsukarehateta... hitobito was eien no yami ni keiru... chiisai mama nara kitto ima demo meita kana..."   
Buruma took a long breath, glancing nervously over at the man who would decide her future. He was inspecting the insides of his sake glass. Buruma wet her lips and---  
  
She was running through the forest. Her eyes sparkled with the rays of light that pierced the canopy of the dense woods. She smiled wide, pushing herself to glide faster in a zigzag path through the trees and underbrush. The arms of her kimono fluttered playfully in the light breeze. She quickly darted behind the truck of a fallen tree, seeking haven beneath it. Her forest green locks fell in front of her face, blending in with the dense undergrowth. She concealed a giggle behind her hand. She heard a husky voice curse out softly and the sounds of breaking branches. It was almost instantaneous that he leaped over the fallen log, slipping on a bit of moss and tumbling underneath to land on top of Buruma. Buruma retched with silent laughter, pushing Vejita off of her with half-hearted attempts.  
Buruma scrambled over him and climbed out of the pit in the earth. Gasping excitedly for breath, she skipped between the trees, heading deeper into the forest. Baba wasn't expecting them till sundown. Buruma wasn't worried about getting lost. She grinned wider, besides, if she was lost, then wasn't Vejita lost too?  
Buruma sidled around the massive trunk of a gnarled old tree, tripping over the waves of roots erupting from the ground. She paused to catch her breath. She stretched an ear to catch the telltale signs of Vejita crashing through after her. All she heard was silence.   
Buruma's heart was racing. Her mind scattered and she couldn't remember where she was. She tempted to call out his name. All she needed to do was say his name. 'Buruma, you can do it,' she told herself. 'Just open your mouth and say his name.' She ran a dry tongue over her lips, opening his mouth. Buruma just stood there with her mouth wide open, not knowing if she could whisper a sound. 'I can't!' she screamed in her mind. She closed her mouth. Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar premise of this part of the forest. She swallowed deeply, clutching her throat with one hand. 'Kami...' Her temples burned with a pain unfamiliar to her.   
  
She felt their hard, rough caresses against her skin. Their lustful eyes, their hot breath clouding the air. Buruma stretched her neck upward and whimpered. Then they pounced on her like wild dogs.   
Buruma lay listless on the cold, wet ground as the last man pulled himse;f away from her. He stood up and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He looked upon the shivering young girl with unresponsive eyes, then he walked away. They all walked away. Buruma felt the frigid air touch the insides of her thighs. She struggled to pull herself into a fetal position. Her whole body buzzed with a dull throbbing ache.  
  
She didn't even here him coming. A hand descended to rest on her shoulder. Buruma was yanked out of her memory with force. She whirled around, knocking Vejita back. He stood there shocked as she started crying, her body racked with sobs. She didn't even look up at him. He moved unsteadily towards her, gauging a safe distance lest she turn on him again. He reached out a hand cautiously and took hold of her shoulder.  
She immediately threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. Vejtia looked around nervously. He was a warrior! Not some simpering... he looked down at with sympathy in his eyes. But she looked she broken and sad. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her fail form, bringing her closer to his body.  
"Shh... daijobu yo," he whispered. "It's okay. Everything will be all right."  
She shook her head shoving it farther into the crevice of his neck. Vejita could feel her warm lips resting on his skin. Gently, he pried her away from him while she tried to resist by clinging harder.  
"Chotto," he chided, grinning slightly. "I want to tell you something, Buruma-chan."  
She looked up at him through swollen eyes. What she saw was amazing. A true warrior, her warrior, with his hair aglow with the light of the afternoon sun, his skin bronze and tight from running through the forest, his eyes a warm, deep black.  
Vejita looked down on the girl who had befriended him, the girl who he had allowed to see every inch of his heart, who knew of his deepest shame, and still accepted him. He reached up thoughtlessly and brushed away a lock of her glittering green hair. He saw her staring up at him with her endless midnight blue eyes. He had never seen eyes quite like hers before. He opened his mouth to speak.  
"Buruma," he began, his dark eyes searching hers. "I know you cannot tell me what frightens you."  
Buruma's eyes began to fill with tears. He shook her gently to get her attention; he lifted her chin with his hand. "But I will not ask you. A samurai's code of honor says he must protect those nearest to his heart. Know this, Buruma-chan. I will always protect you."  
  
Buruma looked up at arrogant man sitting in front of her with finger currently playing around in his nose. She would not be singing for him. No, she had a great warrior for who she would speak her heart.  
"Bokutachi wa ikiru hodo ni... Nakushiteku sukoshi zutsu... Istuwari nya uso wo matoi... Tachisukumu koe mo naku..." Her voice was strong and unwavering. Yamucha sat up quickly, watching as the shy little bird blossomed into a passionate crane. Yamucha decided then that he wanted her. He waved outside the door to one of his footmen, whispering in his ear to call Madam Ranchi.  
He grinned slyly at Buruma. "Yes, well that was very nice."  
Buruma didn't even acknowledge the compliment. She mind was overrun with thoughts about the warrior from her past. 'I must find him! He can take me away from all this,' she thought decidedly. She stood up quickly and exited the room just as Madam Ranchi entered it.  
"You called?" Madam Ranchi said, trying to keep down her revulsion for the man.  
"Yes," he said slowly while standing up. "I believe you've found a sponsor for your lovely little geisha girl," he continued.  
Madam Ranchi looked confused for a moment before the thoughts sank in. "You mean you want to..."  
"Most precisely, okami-san. Now, where do I sign?"  
  
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Vejita sat back, every muscle in his bady relaxing under the healing powers of the onsen, or hot spring. He rubbed a rough brush over his taut muscles. Sighing heavily, he sunk farther into the steaming water, letting the misty-colored water filled with minerals bubble and run over his body. He had ventured out into the crisp wintry air for a stroll around the main avenues of Gion. He stopped at a small ramen shop and ate there before continuing on. It had been such a long time since he last reprieve in Gion. After he gave himself fully to the ways of a hitokiri, a man with no past whose future lay paved with the blood of his victims.  
It had been so tempting. Vejita snorted and scrubbed his skin harder. Beauitful young geisha traipsed every darkened alley in Gion. They were as high class as the girls you would find in the Houses. No, they were unskilled and unrefined--but they were also inexpensive and readily available. So many girls had come up to him, clinging on his arms, clamoring for his attentions. It had taken all his will to refuse every last one of them. Did they not know who he was? Had they known he was the feared Battousai they would have thought twice before propositioning him. He was a fierce warrior with the blood of hundreds on his hands.  
Vejita had no qualms about the dozens of deaths he had caused. However, as of late he had been thinking more and more about leaving the life of an assasin and settled down someone. He could become a sensei like his own master, and hopefully train a young man in whom he saw potential to become the next Battousai. Vejita smirked. He had created the persona; why not continue on to beget a legend....  
Vejita stood up from the tub and wrapped a soft kimono around his body, slipping hakama over that, followed by his haori coat. He was not thinking to go to sleep just yet. Vejita had just finished taking the damp from his hair when he heard it. Faint yet alarming to his sensitive ears. A woman's scream.  
  
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Buruma's getas clapped heavily on the roughly pounded and paved alleyways as she raced along. She had thought to make a clean getaway yet someone had recognised her and shouted out when Buruma ran from the House of Kushami. She had a small bundle of clothes wrapped neatly and clutched in her hands. She had exchanged her beautifully crafted ceremonial robes for a simple kimono, like the one she had worn when she first came to the House of Kushami. Buruma did not want to stop. She heard the fainting shouting of those follwoing her path. She twisted her head quickly, catching a glimpse of angry faces. 'Kuso!' Buruma now sprinted faster than she had before, one hand clutching the satchel of her things, the other holding her kimono hiked up. The fabric barely brushed the tops of her knees, allowing her greater ability to run and maneuver. The cold air bit at whatever flesh was bare. Buruma's lungs tingled hot as she gasped in the frosty air. 'I pray I make it through this, please Kami, let me survive...'  
  
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Vejita now heard many shouts from men and women coming from the streets below. He quickly grabbed his daisho, the long sword and the short, and strapped them around his waist. He was out to the main square in a few minutes. He saw a face his recognized. "Kakarotto!" he bellowed across the square. A young man with wild black hair looked up suddenly, searching out the source of the voice that had called him by his childhood name. No one in Gion knew him by that name. 'Kakarotto' in old dialect roughly translated to 'fiercely strong son' pronouncing him as son of the great warrior Bardaku. However, his given name was Gokou, named after his grandfather on his mother's side. Gokou searched the crowd, moving from one face to the next when he chanced upon--- a smirk. 'I know that man.' Gokou's face lit up with a grin. "Vejita!" he shouted. He raced over to his old friend, the girl who had latched on to his arm trailing behind him. Vejita bowed with mock politeness to his old companion, the son of his master. He noticed a young lithe woman standing slightly behind Gokou, both her arms secure around one of his.  
"Who's the wench, Kakarotto?" Vejita asked with a smirk.  
The girl gave him a look of indignation. "Why you--"  
"Uh, Chi Chi, this is my old friend, Vejita. Vejita, this is my uh... this is Chi Chi Gyuu."  
Vejita just smirked at her. "A working girl, I take it."  
Chi Chi growled at him. "NO. For your information, I am a professional entertainer," she retorted, never releasing her hold on Gokou.  
Vejita turned his attention from the young woman to speak with his longtime friend. "What's going on here?"  
Chi Chi opened her mouth to speak before Gokou could even come up with an answer. "My friend, also an entertainer, ran away from our House. The man who wants her and his thugs are tracking her down now." Chi Chi looked down to the ground. 'Poor Buruma...' "It isn't fair, " murmured, small tears running down her cheeks.  
Vejita looked around the crowd. Mainly people who wanted to see a little excitement. "Did she belong to him?" he asked the young woman.  
Chi Chi shook her head. "Not yet. From what I heard, they hadn't gotten to far into the paperwork when it was discovered that she was missing."  
Vejita nodded. "Then she is still free and there is nothing they can do to her." Vejita gasped when Chi Chi let go of Gokou and latched onto the front of his haori.  
"NO! You don't understand! If a man wants a geisha he sees, there is nothing we can do to stop him from getting her! It's not as simple and clean as one might think it is," she finished, turning back to sob into Gokou's chest. Gokou patted her lightly on the back in comfort. He looked up at Vejita with a worried expression clear on his face. Vejita just nodded and turned to walk away.  
"You don't have to do this, Vejita," Goku said.  
Vejita turned back to look at his friend. "There is no honour in hunting the innocent. I will not stand by as an innocent girl is stalked down like prey."  
"Do you think you can catch up to them?"  
"Kakarotto, am I not the Battousai?" he murmured, raising one eyebrow.  
Goku grinned at his friend and watched him disappear into the crowd. Chi Chi looked up bewildered.  
"He's the Battousai?" she whispered, not wanting to cause a commotion. Goku turned his grin down to his beloved, the woman he wanted to marry.  
"Yes, he is," he affirmed.  
  
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Buruma was reaching the outskirts of Gion and she was glad. Once she reached the dense forest of the outlying providence, it would become virtually impossible for them to track her. Buruma let out a small giggle, just a infintesimal show of how much happiness lay inside of her. She would be free to seek out a life she wanted, free to pursue what see saw in her dreams. Buruma deplored the thought of belonging to a man like some precious commodity. That feeling multiplied a thousand fold when she found out that she might belong to the disgusting pig that was Yamamoto Yamucha. She had stolen away to her room and gathered her dearest belongings, changed into a traveling kimono and scampered out the side entrance of the House of Kushami. Unfortunately, as she was preparing to slip away, one of the guards had latched onto her. In the only defense she knew, she had let out an ear-piercing scream that had drawn the attention of everyone strolling around the vicinity of the teahouse. The stunned guard had released her temporarily, but that had been long enough to make her escape into the crowd.   
Buruma edged into a small alleyway, resting against the walls of an inn. 'Just for one minute...' she thought wearily. She had barely time to react. A hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream and bite but the hand stretched over her mouth too tightly.  
"You thought you could escape," a deep, raspy voice breathed in her ear. Buruma shook, insane with fear. He chuckled. He whirled her around quickly, pressing her up against the side of the inn roughly. His hand was still clasped tightly over her mouth.  
'That scar! I know that scar!' Buruma fought furiously, pushing against him and trying to kick at his legs. Yamucha just smirked. "You will belong to me, ne, Buruma-chan?" he asked, sickly sweet. Buruma growled deep her throat, trying to bite at his palm as it was covering her mouth. He waggled one finger at her. "Tsk. Tsk. Buruma, how unlady-like," he grunted as he shoved her harder against the rough wood of the side of the building. Her hair that she had sloppily pinned in a topknot fell apart to cascade around her shoulders.  
"Beautiful Buruma..." he whispered.  
She shuddered violently, still unable to say anything.   
"I promise I will take good care of you, if only you would let me," he grinned. He positioned his free hand at the neck of her kimono, slowly pulling it down. Her kimono never went farther than her shoulders.  
Yamucha was hurled down the alleyway.  
Vejita somersaulted in the air and landed in front of Buruma.  
"Are you all right?" he asked, not even bothering to look at her.  
Her voice, she found, was hoarse and shaky. "Y-y-yes."  
He nodded briefly then sauntered down the alley after the man he had kicked.  
Yamucha looked up dazed at his assailant---immediately recognizing the angular face, the set jaw, and the dark, haunting eyes.  
"B-b-battousai! We meet again!" he coughed as he struggled to stand.  
Vejita simply stood, crossing his arms and shifting his weight into a relaxed position.  
Yamucha wiped his face, finally blood on his hand, he swore. "Kusotaro! I will finish what we started long ago!"  
Vejita sized up his opponent. "Maybe, Yamamoto. But I am older and wise. You, however," he grinned, "seemed to have grown fat and lazy."  
Yamucha sputtered in indignation. "You were a foolish boy when we faced before, you will once again fall to me," he yelled.  
Vejita gave a throaty chuckle. "Yet you did not leave our little battle unscathed now did you?" He reomved his haori coat and dropped it to the ground. That action was a significant show to Yamucha. The Battousai was ready to do battle.  
Yamucha touched his cheek in remembrance. He growled. "It is you who will wear the wound this time, Battousai," he snarled. He rose his chest, puffing it out. "I do not think you deserve such a name. Battousai indeed! I wonder what people say to you when they see that the much-feared 'sword-drawing manslayer' is nothing but a diminuitive little rat!"  
  
It was over in an instant. Yamucha never spoke another word...ever again.  
  
Vejita resheathed his blood-stained sword, forged from the mighty flame. He turned back to the young woman to find that she had fainted. Her brilliant green hair fell over to cover her face. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically within her slightly torn kimono. He whirled around quickly, his sensitive hearing picking up the voices of men nearby  
"She must have gone that way!" one of the them shouted.  
Another man laughed. "She wouldn't be crazy enough to go into the woods alone!"  
Vejita quickly decided what he had to do. He picked up the girl who was slumped against the side of the inn. He lifted her into his arms, securing one arm under her knees and the another supporting her neck. Then like a whisper in the wind he was gone--- into the woods.  
  
Vejita dodged his head around, searching into the depths of the woods. Discreetly, he slipped into the foliage. Now the voices could only be heard faintly in the distance. He breathed a sigh of relief. His 'baggage,' the young woman, was suprisingly light in his arms. He pulled her up against his chest to support her weight. She lolled her head, still unconscious. Her hair spilled away from her face. Vejita's breath caught in his mouth. She looked familiar somehow. It was as if he had seen her and her face was ingrained in his memory but he knew that couldn't be. Buruma sighed lightly, curling closer to his body for warmth. Vejita's eye twitched. He was used to having someone so close to him.  
It was muggy. Light rain had started to fall. Vejita placed his load down on the ground and removed his kimono top, letting it rest around his waist. He picked the young woman back up into his arms and continued on into the forest. He didn't know where they were going and what they were going to do when they arrived at the next town. Vejita knew he had to protect this girl. No matter what the cost. Vejita frowned in annoyance. He didn't know why he felt this way towards a girl he didn't even know. But the feeling was there all the same. He knew he couldn't let her go.  
Vejita stared up at the canopy of the forest, dripping with dewey wetness. The heat had created a humid mist that permeated the forest floor, sticking to him like a second skin. He was jerked from his appreciation of nature when the girl in his arms shifted. She groaned deeply. Her blue eyes fluttered open. She regarded him a moment, perplexity clear in her eyes, before opening her mouth to speak.  
"Who are you?" she said accusingly. She looked around, assessing her surroundings. She saw that her kimono had fallen down her shoulders. She moved to quickly cover herself up. She glared at him.  
"I'm the one who saved you," he said before setting her down. Her legs were still weak; her knees buckled and she fell against him. He grunted and set back on her feet. She blushed and tried to find her footing on the slippery forest ground.  
"Saved me?" she asked, trying to recollect her last memories. Suddenly she remembered. "Oh..." she said softly. Small tears appeared in her eyes. She threw her arms around the neck of her savior. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. He scowled, trying to hide his blush and slowly detached her from around his neck.  
"You're welcome," he said, looking at the ground.  
She bent over to peer up at him as he looked down. "Do I know you?" she asked innocently.  
"Highly unlikely," he scoffed, suddenly straightening up, he almost knocked her off balance. She looked confused. He decided to clue her in. "I am the Hitokiri Battousai," he admitted.  
Buruma clasped both of her hands over her mouth. "THE Hitokiri Battousai," she whispered.  
He nodded.  
Buruma swallowed nervously. 'Here I am standing alone in the woods with a killer!' she thought frantically.  
Vejita rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, girl. I won't hurt her you," he snapped. 'How true that is,' he thought. 'On the contrary, I want to protect you forever.'  
Buruma shuffled her feet, unsure what to say. Afterall, what does one say to a murderer of hundreds of men?  
Vejita sighed and grabbed her hand. She quickly jerked it away. "What do you think you're doing?"  
He shot her a glare before answering. "We aren't far enough from your town yet. They can still find us here."  
"Oh..."  
"So let's go," he said, once more taking a hold of her hand.  
He set off at a fast pace, dragging the young girl behind him through the forest. After awhile, Vejita stopped to allow her to rest. She leaned heavily against a large, sturdy tree, breathing heavily.  
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. She got no response as he crouched down next to a small stream. She tried again. "Why are you helping me?" she asked.  
He took a long drink from the stream, cupping water in his hands and lifting it to his mouth. "Drink," he commanded.  
She sighed, annoyed, yet did as she was told. When she stood back up he took a hold of her hand once more and they went off into the forest. When she wasn't looking, when she was concentrating on taking sure steps on the slippery ground, Vejita glanced down at the top of head. The light reflected off her locks, shining a brilliant green. 'Onna...' he thought. 'For the life of me, I do not know...'  
  
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She poked at the fire with a stick, the flames singeing the wood black. She sighed and leaned back on two hands, tossing the stick aside.  
"What now?" a voice came from deep in the woods, drawing closer.  
"Nothing to worry yourself over," she said, sitting back up. Vejita emerged from the surrounding woods, two fat jackrabbits slung over one shoulder. He dropped them by her side.   
"Here, cook these," he ordered.  
"Of course, master," she said with mock humility. He sneered at her then walked off to gather more firewood. When the rabbits were done, she rolled them onto a plate of leaves she had gathered. Vejita came stalking once more out of the woods, a bushel of branches under one arm. He feed them one by one to the fire.  
"They're done," she said, expecting a reply. When she got none, she continued on, "Just wait for them to cool down a bit. We have no ohashi (chopsticks) so we'll have to use our hands." Once again, silence prevailed. Vejita barely acknowledged her instructions before trying to grab one of the rabbits. He hissed and dropped the rabbit and looked at his hand. The whole of it was turning bright red. He looked up, glaring, when he heard an indignant snort.  
"I TOLD you the rabbits were HOT, but NO, you had go touch one anyway," she snarled, quickly taking apart her bundle of clothes and rifting through it. He looked quizzical for a moment before his face returned to a grimace of pain. "Ah ha!" she said triumphantly, holding up a kimono of dark beige. She grabbed one corner and pulled on it. A large ripping sound ensued and after a few more yanks, she had a generous-size square of cloth. She scootered over to Vejita's side, kneeling before him. "Hold out your hand," she commanded. He growled but begrudgingly held it out.  
"Bakamono..."she grumbled. She flicked off a few pieces of burnt rabbit meat that had embedded itself in Vejita's hand. She spit on a corner of the cloth and gently rubbed at the burn. "Not too bad," she mumbled. Quickly, before he could protest, she wrapped the cloth around his hand, tight, tying knots to secure it. Vejita had maintained impassive to what she was doing to his hand. As a hitokiri he had been trained to deal with enormous amounts of pain, and to be perfectly honest, the burn on his hand was miniscule in amount of pain compared to some other wounds he had endured. This mere flesh burn was a walk in the park, so to speak.   
There was something that tickled his mind as he watched her tend to his hand, something almost familiar. He shook it off.  
Buruma looked up from securing the cloth around his hand. "Well, that's better at least," she spoke frankly. "Now wait, before picking up that rabbit again, Battousai-sama." She grinned.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"What do you regret the most?"  
Vejita growled and looked over at the one who was disturbing his sleep. "What?"  
"In life, I mean, so far as you've lived it, what do you regret the most?"  
He glared at her. "What does it matter?" he asked angrily.  
"You're avoiding the question," she quiped.  
"I am not," he answered coolly. "It's a stupid question."  
"Just answer it. You've nothing to lose," she retorted.  
He sighed heavily. "A lot, I suppose--"  
"You should, considering you're the Battousai and you murder people---"  
"Do you want to hear it or not?" he growled. Buruma held up her hands in defeat. "I suppose," he continued, "that I regret never returning home to my father."  
"You ran away?" Buruma looked over at him, fairly surprised. She had figured him for the spoiled rich son of an aristocrat, treated like a prince, who had been trained for a soldier's duty then decided to go for a 'joyride' as an assassin. She had assumed wrong.  
"I ran from my father for the second time in my life and became the man you see now. I never returned to see him even when I heard he was dying. I was too... I don't know." Vejita looked over, startled. Buruma had turned on her side to face him, rubbing his arm soothingly.  
"It's okay. You can tell me. I won't tell a soul," she whispered.  
He cleared his throat gently. "I suppose I was afraid... ...afraid he would be disappointed at the man I had become--"  
"How could he?" Buruma said quietly. "If he saw what I see now, I have no doubt he would be proud of you."  
"How could you say that?" he said, trying to keep the harshness out of his voice. "You don't even know me."  
Buruma smiled. "But you saved me. You took me away from that awful place. I know all I need to know."  
Vejita looked at her, uncertain. She seemed sincere... "What about you?"  
She smiled. "What about me?"  
"What do you regret the most?"  
She sighed and let herself back back into the grass. So many, many things," she whispered. "My life is full of regrets."  
"But what do you regret the most?" he pressed roughly.  
She looked over at him and gave a small sidesmile. "You're going to laugh."  
He shook his head solemnly. "I promise I won't."  
"A warrior's promise?"  
"Of course," he scoffed.  
She giggled lightly. "Fine." She sighed once more. "I regret... I'm running up this path, back where I used to live. I'm running to catch up to this boy; he's leaving. I don't remember much. It was years ago. But I want to tell him. Tell him, but I can't. I don't have the words. They take him away. And I never get to tell him."  
"Tell him what?"  
"That I love him."  
Vejita looked at her, startled. "Why couldn't you tell him?"  
"I couldn't speak."  
He looked confused. Buruma saw this and sought to clarfy for him.  
"When I was younger, I never spoke. I was mute, I guess you could call it.  
  
'Kami, it's her...'  
  
Vejita sat up suddenly.  
"What is it?" Buruma asked, concerned.  
He looked at her, seeming like he was lost. "Uh..uh..ummm... it was a bug or something."  
Buruma giggled. "The allmighty Battousai afraid of a tiny, little bug," she asked none too innocently.  
"Go to sleep, girl," he said, suddenly, turning on his side to face away from her. She scowled at his back. "Fine, grouchy. But my name isn't 'girl.' It's Buruma," she said, finishing in a huff, lying on the ground, her back to his.  
  
'Buruma... Buruma... Finally, I have found you....'  
  
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Buruma yanked hard on his hand.  
"Chotto! Can we rest a minute?" she heaved. He shrugged and dropped her hand, the one that he had been using to drag her tirelessly through the forest. Buruma sat down on a small boulder, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Waaah! My legs are sooo tired," she grumbled. Before Vejita could fire a comeback attributing the soreness to her laziness, he was caught off by her sharp gasp.  
"Suggoi! It's wonderful!" Buruma sprang from the boulder to stand on a nearby ledge. Vejita moved quickly to her side, fearing she would tumble over the edge.  
Vejita scowled at her. "It's just a town," he said, motioning nonchalantly to the twinkling lights below them. The light emitted from the housetorches appeared like fireflies dancing in the night air.  
"But it looks so pretty from up here, don't you think, Battousai-sama?"  
"Vejita."  
"Nani? What did you say?"  
"My name is Vejita, so stop calling me Battousai-sama."  
There was a long span of silence with simply the whirr of the night bugs and distant sounds of the people in the village below  
"Vejita..."   
'Kami, I know that name. Somewhere, somewhere...' She looked at the sharp, finely chiseled face looking down at her, perfect as if carved out of stone. 'Could it be? A promise made so long ago come true...'   
"Vejita," she began, wetting her lips, "what will happen when we reach the town?" She sounded nervous.  
Vejita stared at her with his piercing eyes as she watched the village. The wind caught stands of her hair that had escaped from her tie and tossed it. The light from the torches drifted up to the couple standing on the ledge, reflecting in their eyes. Vejita thought she hid her nervousness quite well under a facade of calmness. And beauty. But as the Battousai, he was extremely good at reading people. He slowly reached for her hand and it took it in his. She looked up at him.   
"I will protect you."  
"Always?" she asked quitely. 'His answer will be....everything...' He gave her the first smile she had ever seen from him. She though it was quite becoming.  
"Forever," he replied  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*THE END*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
or is it? haha! hope you all enjoyed this fic. it's one of my better ones, i believe. please tell me what you think. email me at evillerthanyou@yahoo.com thanks and happy reading!  
  
  



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